Princes of Shadow
by Black Widow1
Summary: X-over with Anne Bishop's Black Jewels Trilogy. Can't really summarize it.
1. Default Chapter

Author: Black Widow  
Rating: R  
Category: Fantasy, AU, Drama, Angst  
Summary: Crossover with the Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop, but set thousands of years later. Read to find out more. CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS to Black Jewels.  
Archive: Ask and you shall recieve.  
Warnings: Shonen-ai, slavery, torture, angst, crossover, possibe m/m incest between BJT characters (this isn't written in stone, mind you.), really messed up stuff.  
  
Princes of Shadow (Prologue)  
  
He will come to see me today; I will pour the wine, and we will talk, and I will pretend not to see the pain in his eyes.  
  
And tomorrow the boy will come, and he will find my web...he will be upset, I know, but the web must be seen, and he is the best suited, the only one who could see and understand.  
  
And I cannot wait any longer.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Daemon Sadi, Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, known also as the Sadist, the Peacekeeper, the Enforcer, Priest of the Hourglass, heir to the High Lord of Hell, and former Consort to the most beautiful, terrifying, perfect Queen ever to walk the Realms, stared sightlessly into the fire.  
  
Waiting...again...for something seen in the web of a mad Black Widow, invisible to all others who looked. He had been waiting for twenty thousand years, his Guardianship commencing the day his Queen had died.  
  
Tersa's web, found after the old woman's death, was carefully shielded in his workroom, preserved for millenia. He had searched for another who could see in it what he had seen, but he was alone.  
  
Only he could see the taint, the disease, slowly creeping back into the Blood. Only he could see the return of the corruption, the pain it would bring. Only he could see-  
  
They thought he was mad.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Heero's mind was blank as he thrust into the Queen beneath him. He ignored her, ignored his surroundings, ignored what he was /doing/ and just got it done.  
  
It had been this way ever since he was brought to the Hidden Court.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chang Wufei, a half-breed Eyrian bastard, cursed his eyes. Dark and slanted, rather than golden like those of the Eyrian race, they were what had betrayed his ancestry...  
  
/"Fucking Jhinka!"/  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The half-Dea al Mon boy watched from beneath his red-brown thatch of hair, waiting. The wolves had told him something was coming, a human, and not one of those that his clan recognized and welcomed. The Children of the Wood did not suffer fools or tresspassers lightly, and the Barton clan was no different. He nocked an arrow to his bow, and sat silently, waiting.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Quatre Raberba Winner stepped from the Dark Altar clutching something to his chest.  
  
His Jewel.  
  
Gray, beautiful and uncut, it shimmered and glowed with an inner radiance as he held it. It fit neatly into his palm, as though made for him.  
  
He hated it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Zechs Marquise, formerly Milliardo Peacecraft, clenched his teeth.  
  
He would not scream.  
  
Once he had been a Glacian Warlord Prince, a member of a prosperous and respected family that could trace its roots all the way back to the Dark Court, to Karla herself.  
  
He wouldn't scream.  
  
He hadn't always been a whore, a slave, forced to see day after day the repulsive creature his little sister had become. He hadn't always worn a mask.  
  
So he /wouldn't/-  
  
(It took two and a half hours of torture just to make the slave scream.)  
  
TBC... 


	2. Chapter 1

Heero stood in the shadows at the edge of the room. Another party. He wondered who the entertainment would be tonight.  
  
His current mistress had not yet called for him, and so he would remain here, watching the dancers. He was much happier in private, anyway.  
  
A bell sounded, seeming to be too clean a sound for this place. The entertainment was about to begin. He walked over to his mistress, not wanting to give her cause to 'summon' him.  
  
As everyone sat down, the little bitch dragging him along to sit by her side, two guards brought a slender youth in. The boy seemed strangely untroubled by his fate, though he must have seen what the Bitch had had them do to her own brother just last night.  
  
The boy was pretty; he was probably a slave. Perhaps he had been foolish enough to refuse to bed one of the Ladies.  
  
Heero noticed a long braid, waist-length at least, being pinned to the boy's head as he was secured between two pillars. The guards cut his clothing away, slowly, so as to increase the suspense for the audience.  
  
Oh, yes. Definitely a slave, this one. Faint scars criss-crossed the boy's lightly muscled back, leaving no doubt as to the boy's role.  
  
The young slave was silent as the whip descended: blood spattered the white marble as the braided leather was raised again. Heero carefully tuned the rest of the scene out.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"What's your name?" The voice was soft, a hair above being a whisper, yet Heero heard every syllable.  
  
He didn't turn around. Any fool should know better than to intrude upon him when he was walking in the gardens- even fools whose voices sent chills down his spine.  
  
The fool stepped closer- close enough for Heero to catch a hint of his psychic scent. Male, young, and... strange. There was something indefinable about his scent, something different that Heero had never before encountered.  
  
He turned around, and found himself looking into the midnight violet eyes of the boy from dinner, shining in the moonlight.  
  
Finally he found his voice. "...Heero Yuy."  
  
A pause, then the boy nodded. "Come with me."  
  
***************  
  
The young aristo walked carefully through the forest, wondering how long it would be before he met one of the famed Children of the Wood.  
  
With him, of course, "young" was a relative term. He was 150 years young, the result of his Dhemlan and Hayllian ancestors. Physically, there was no evidence of his long-lived heritage- generations of racial mixing had left him with light skin, ginger hair, and blue eyes. To look at him, most thought he was a twenty-year-old member of one of the short-lived races.  
  
He stepped lightly along the path, hand on his sword.  
  
He froze when an arrow whizzed past his ear and thunked into a nearby tree. A shadow detatched itself from one of the trees up ahead and walked towards him.  
  
It was a young man, pale-skinned and dark haired. The one eye not hidden by that incredible bang was deep, forest green. The aristo was startled to see that only one feature truly reflected what he had been told about the Dea al Mon: the boy had large, pointed ears.  
  
"Who are you, and why have you come to our forest?"  
  
Kneeling delicately on the leaves carpeting the forest floor, the aristocrat replied, "I am Treize Khushrenada, and I bring a message from the High Lord of Hell to your Queen."  
  
The tall, slender boy apparently considered this for a moment before asking, "Do you have any proof?"  
  
Still kneeling, Trieze replied, "I was told to tell you that he is kin, and to give you this." He produced a silver necklace, with a pair of beautifully carved stags forming the setting for a nonexistent jewel. "They said your Elders would understand."  
  
There was a moment of silence as the boy sent the strange message and the image of the piece of jewelry back to his superiors. His visible eye widened, and he nodded abruptly.  
  
"Come, Prince Khushrenada; they are very interested in what you have to say." The Dea al Mon turned and walked away, and Treize followed.  
  
***************  
  
Wufei growled silently before coming to a decision.  
  
He needed food, and the only place nearby was an Eyrian village.  
  
He knew from experience that going without food for even a short while could cause him to collapse, a trait he had inherited from his Eyrian mother. A weakness he could ill afford, but there was nothing to be done about it.  
  
It would be dangerous going in there, but he could pass for one of them as long as he wore tinted glasses. He hoped that would be enough. After all, he had seen what Eyrians did to his kind. /At least my hair and skin match- Hell's fire, I look more like them than I did my own family./  
  
He put the glasses on, spread his wings, and flew in.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
An Eyrian Warlord studied the stranger who had just appeared in town. There was something odd about him...  
  
Small, but strong, he had long hair pulled back in a ponytail, a break from tradition. His wings were broader than normal, and had an odd texture. His clothing was loose, rather than the traditional skintight black leather.  
  
Although his glasses prevented the Red-Jeweled Warlord from seeing his eyes, he seemed nervous, watchful, as he made his purchases, speaking Eyrian with a peculiar, lilting accent.  
  
Oddest of all, the Warlord could sense a Warlord Prince's agressive strength in the stranger, as well as incredible dark power- yet the young man obviously did not wear Jewels.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Wufei tensed. He could feel it, like something brushing against the edge of his awareness- he was being followed. /K'so! I thought I had gotten away./  
  
"Who's there?" he asked softly, drawing his sword.  
  
There was a strange shimmer to his left, and then an Eyrian man appeared on the path, his hands held up as though in surrender.  
  
Witch tricks. Like Wufei's mother had used. He snarled softly and backed away.  
  
"Who are you and what do you want?"  
  
The man eyed his sword nervously and replied, "My name's Firenar. I was a bit curious about you, that's all."  
  
"Do you normally become invisible in order to follow people you're 'curious' about, asshole?"  
  
"Okay, I'm sorry about that. It's just that you didn't exactly fit in back in town, and I thought maybe you needed help or something."  
  
Wufei spread his wings instinctively, preparing to flee. "I don't need any help, especially not yours. Fuck off."  
  
"Okay, okay, dammit, I was only trying to be- HOLY SHIT!"  
  
Wufei crouched into a fighting stance, searching for the danger, before realizing that he was no longer wearing his glasses.  
  
"You're a fuckin' Jhinka!" Firenar drew his weapon, a bladed stick of some kind. "What were you doing back at the village? Reconaissance?"  
  
"You would think that!" Wufei snarled, "You who live to see the blood of others, to burn our villages and rape our women! It would never occur to you that one such as I could simply be in search of a few scraps of food!" He threw his carry-bag to the ground.  
  
Firenar stopped as though stunned. "Rape your- no Blood Male could possibly-" Wufei attacked during the other man's distraction, loosing a quick flurry of blows, leaving Firenar bleeding from his cheek. Firenar's face hardened.  
  
"Perhaps it's the other way around, you half-breed whelp! Your mother must have been a whore if she didn't abort you the instant your Jhinka father pulled his diseased cock from her body!"  
  
The battle after that was fast and furious, the two men, almost evenly matched, trading blows too quickly to leave any time or breath for trading insults. Wufei felt something pulsing in the back of his mind as he evaded both Firenar's blade and his magic.  
  
The tide of the battle turned suddenly as Firenar began to tire, while Wufei remained somehow fresh and strong. He drove Firenar relentlessly backward, his awareness narrowing to the point of his sword. He didn't notice the light frost gathering wherever he stepped.  
  
Finally Firenar fell, dropping his weapon as he did so. He grabbed for it wildly, stopping suddenly as his opponent's blade pressed against his throat.  
  
"Don't move." The words were spoken in a tone of absolute calm as the small half-breed bent forward smoothly and picked up the fallen weapon. He then knelt lightly on Firenar's chest as a circle of frost gathered around them.  
  
The sensation in the back of Wufei's mind expanded to his whole body, giving him a feeling of... power. Strange, dark, beautiful and sensual. Violent. And so very right. He spoke.  
  
"I will not kill you like this. Get up." He slid off of Firenar's chest and waited for the Eyrian to obey. Firenar did so, looking shaken.  
  
"How- you're a half-breed, but... so powerful-"  
  
The words snapped Wufei's mind back to it's normal state, and his eyes widened. "What did you do?" he whispered harshly.  
  
"What did I- you fended off my attacks like a five-year-old girl! How can you be so powerful without wearing a Jewel?"  
  
A memory tickled at the back of Wufei's mind, surfacing slowly. "A... Jewel. My mother had one of those. She said it was what gave her her witch-power."  
  
A strange calm had settled over the clearing, an unspoken truce rising up between the two men as they sat down warily to discuss matters.  
  
*************** 


End file.
